


Blood Moon

by VenatorNoctis



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amputation, Castration, M/M, Mind Control, Mutilation, Tooth Removal, Tsukuyomi's Moonfuck Tortureworld, trash party, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19468021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/pseuds/VenatorNoctis
Summary: Castrum Fluminis goes differently: Asahi misjudges. Yotsuyu indulges.Tsukuyomi whispers in the back of her mind, their shared mind, showing her how to use their power. She takes a drag on her pipe and exhales, thin tendrils of aether stretching out to ensnare Asahi's soldiers and make them hers."Hold him," she says as she walks down a staircase of air to reach them, her steps as balanced and careful as the finest geiko's. Her soldiers, their minds eclipsed, seize her brother's arms without question.





	Blood Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gamera (Megan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megan/gifts).



Her brother is still talking when the moonlight enters the castrum. Yotsuyu is refusing to listen. He hasn't had anything new to say since she was a little girl: always she's useless, she's trash, she needs to know her place and do as she's told. If his mouth pollutes Lord Zenos' name now that's the only difference.

Instead of listening, Yotsuyu looks up, letting the moonlight shine off the goddess' mirror to bathe her face. There is power there, cool and distant, light that makes things strange instead of known, shapes that shift instead of staying certain. Ruler of blood and tide, nightmare and madness. The crystals Asahi gathered are evaporating into that formless well of strange potential. The goddess Tsukuyomi touches her heart—and Yotsuyu welcomes her in.

Her whole body feels like it's unfolding, her senses opening to impossible beauty, the chains of flesh and gravity falling away as the currents of wild, singing aether transform her. She is aware of the minds of her onlookers, her future worshipers, their terror and awe as she takes her new form.

The Eorzean warrior and his comrades are planning to fight, but they'll need time. Asahi is gloating, thrilling in his triumph as his soldiers try to convince him to flee. Yotsuyu opens her eyes and smiles at them.

Tsukuyomi whispers in the back of her mind, their shared mind, showing her how to use their power. She takes a drag on her pipe and exhales, thin tendrils of aether stretching out to ensnare Asahi's soldiers and make them hers.

"Hold him," she says as she walks down a staircase of air to reach them, her steps as balanced and careful as the finest geiko's. Her soldiers, their minds eclipsed, seize her brother's arms without question.

His eyes go wide. "What are you doing?" he demands. Of her, of them, perhaps both. "You stupid bitch, you're supposed to be fighting the enemies of the empire."

"You fool." She gestures with her fan and the winds cut through his armor, his clothes, shredding his defenses before her. "Are you truly so arrogant as to think you can give orders to a goddess?"

"You're a _fake_ ," Asahi spits, glaring up at her. "We did this to you on purpose. You have a job to do."

Yotsuyu can feel the Eorzean's presence retreating, most likely for reinforcements. Well, good. That'll give her time to do this properly.

"You're a parasite, brother. I think it's time to make you useful for something at last." She draws on her pipe again, and Tsukuyomi shows her how to infuse the bowl with heat, so when she stretches out her hand to write the character _slave_ on his chest, each stroke is blistering red on white skin. He pants and struggles, kicking at the soldiers who hold him, but their minds are wrapped gently in the smoke of Yotsuyu's desire and they ignore him.

She doesn't even need to speak to give them new orders; when she gestures, they drag him over to one of the empty crystal caskets to bend him backward over it. "Stop it," he says urgently, possibly to the soldiers instead of to her, as if they still have wills other than her own. "Let me go, that's an order."

Instead of listening him, they listen to her voice in their minds, shifting their grip so they can force his legs apart with their own: his back bowed over the casket, his limbs pinned, his miserable, shriveled genitals unprotected. For a moment Yotsuyu has to just savor this, the scent of his panic, the way he alternates between _No, stop_ and _What do you want from me?_

"What do I want from you?" she asks. One of her soldiers takes hold of Asahi's balls and pulls them upward, stretching the skin taut. "I want satisfaction." She flicks her wrist and the aether-blade from her fan cuts easily through the stretched skin.

Asahi _screams_. Blood pours down over the steel of the casket and Yotsuyu's heart soars. She watches breathlessly as he shudders and struggles to cover himself, to protect his injury, to staunch the bleeding. 

She's happy enough to help with that last part, at least. She presses the bowl of her pipe to the wound and Asahi screams again, raw-throated and true, as the smell of burning flesh fills the air around them.

When she pulls back, she allows her soldiers to do likewise, and Asahi crumples off the casket. He hunches in on himself, trembling, the few remaining scraps of his uniform clinging to clammy skin. It's the most beautiful thing Yotsuyu has ever seen, and she can feel Tsukuyomi touching her heart in quiet pleasure, basking in her triumph.

"Get down on your hands and knees," she says.

Asahi's head snaps up, and he glares at her in outrage—but also in fear, for the first time. She smiles at him.

Instead of obeying her he bolts, sprinting toward the far door as though he thinks he can reach the safety of his ship before she can stop him. As though he thinks the ship would offer him safety.

Yotsuyu leaves her first soldiers behind—one of them was starting to pull against her control, upset by the cruelty, and how did he ever become an officer?—and follows her rightful prey out into the dark. Her feet no longer touch the ground when she walks. She has transcended. Soon all of Doma will be ground beneath her heel, beginning with the man who thrived on her suffering for so long.

The moonlight makes his pale skin glow as he stumbles up the rough path toward the waiting airship. Yotsuyu follows, stately and implacable. There are guards on duty at the gangplank, but they're mere mortals with no protection from the power of a goddess. She takes a deep breath and exhales the smoke and silver of dreams across the shoreline, and feels the guards's minds become pliable, gloves she can easily slip her hands into.

Even injured as he is, Asahi slows as he approaches the ship, afraid to show weakness in front of men he supposedly controls. Yotsuyu nudges them away from their posts and sends them out to meet him.

"Get back to the ship," he orders as they close in—Roegadyn conscripts, men who tower over him. "Something went wrong. There's an eikon, it's loose, it's a monster—"

One of the soldiers lashes out and grabs him.

"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?" Yotsuyu asks as she approaches. The conscripts, _her_ conscripts, loom over her brother, menacing and silent.

He looks back at her. "You selfish bitch! Just this once, you couldn't do what you were told?" His voice is tight with pain, and his panic hums on the air like a plucked sanxian string. "This should have been the perfect plan! Lord Zenos entrusted me with this and all you had to do was _obey_! You stupid, ungrateful cow! You—"

Yotsuyu has one of her conscripts shove his fingers into Asahi's mouth. He's trying to hurt her again, to remind her of all the ways she's been hurt and helpless in the past. Sometimes that would make her stop resisting.

But that was before she became a goddess. She drifts toward him, shedding motes of silver light in her wake. Her conscripts stand impassive, holding Asahi between them. He makes wet choking sounds as he struggles with the fingers filling his mouth.

"I don't think you've ever said anything I wanted to hear," she murmurs. "It's long past time you stopped speaking at all." After all, he can scream just as well when he can't form words.

She slips the idea into her conscripts' minds and they accept it, in the unthinking way of men in dreams: of course, this is the task in front of them. This is what they do for the glory of the empire. Haven't they all done unsavory things at times?

One of them pins Asahi in a crushing embrace, one arm tight under his chin to hold him still. The other draws a plain, soldier's knife and reaches into his mouth again.

Asahi starts struggling anew when he realizes what she's doing, but he has nowhere near the strength he'd need to break a Roegadyn soldier's grip. The one with the knife gets hold of his tongue and leans in with the knife.

It isn't quick and easy like cutting off his balls. The flesh is more sturdy and a mundane knife is less sharp than the goddess' aether blade. Asahi makes such _sounds_ the whole time, gurgling, bestial cries of protest and dismay. Blood runs down his front, splashing over the sleeves of the conscript holding him still, its raw iron scent blossoming on the air.

But she wouldn't want him bleeding _too_ much. That would be an escape of its own. When the man with the knife steps back and tosses aside his excised lump of useless flesh, Yotsuyu has him pry Asahi's jaws wide. She lifts her pipe as she drifts closer and he whines like a suffering animal.

She takes a deep drag and pushes the bowl of the pipe into his mouth to cauterize the wound. He's crying. It's the first time she's ever seen him cry. It's beautiful, thin trails down his cheeks that glisten with the moonlight. He hasn't surrendered yet, but he will.

"There," Yotsuyu says as she withdraws it at last. There's blood smeared on the stem, steaming faintly. "Perhaps now we can find a better way to put your mouth to use, hmm? You always were _so_ concerned with how people's bodies should be used." 

Tsukuyomi's power pulses through her, and Yotsuyu can feel her flesh suffused with the stuff of nightmares. She reaches out toward Asahi and doesn't touch him, just pushes the corrupting aether where she wants it—and watches as his teeth dissolve. He squirms, making horrified sounds—does it hurt? she hopes so—and finally getting one hand free to reach up and press over the ruin of his mouth. It'll be so soft now, just the slick flesh of gums, and there'll be much more room without his tongue in the way.

"Fuck his throat," Yotsuyu says.

Her conscripts push Asahi down on his knees in the dirt. He's shaking his head no, moaning softly, but Yotsuyu thinks her conscripts might go ahead and use him even without her prompting. A beaten dog is by far the most likely to bite, and her brother has been far too careless about the dogs he beats.

One of the Roegadyn holds his arms twisted up behind his back and the other fills his mouth with a cock so thick he can barely open his jaw far enough for it. He squeezes his eyes shut and seems to be trying to keep quiet, as if he knows how much his misery will please her.

"That must hurt so," she purrs as her conscript begins to thrust. "Getting fucked right over those fresh burns." The Roegadyn drives deeper and Asahi gags, his throat bulging around the grotesque thickness he's not built to handle. Heat shivers through Yotsuyu's body and her clit throbs so hard it's almost painful.

The Roegadyn fucks like it's a mission, fast and steady; she's known plenty like him, and they're far from the worst ones out there. Not that Asahi appreciates it, retching and sniffling, bloody spit dripping off his chin. His misery makes her blood sing in a way mere sex never has; it flows into her and lifts her up, heady and intoxicating. She draws it in, the worship she craves, basking in the swell of her power.

When her conscript finishes, pouring bitter come down Asahi's throat to give him a new reason to choke, Yotsuyu relaxes her grip to see what will happen. Will her soldiers take the initiative to further ruin their erstwhile commanding officer? Will they have some misplaced attack of conscience toward a man who deserves nothing of the kind?

They pause, apparently uncertain themselves, looking down at the bloody, panting wretch between them. The one who held his arms takes a step back. 

Asahi flings himself away from them and runs, away from the ship, into the darkness and the ruins to the north. Yotsuyu's laughter rings out over the One River and she leaves her soldiers behind as she rises into the air. They were useful for brute force, but for a chase she'll want pawns who are more agile, better suited to the hunt.

And fate favors her cause, for there are camps of stray Lupin dotting the basin, deserters and ronin who live on what they can chase down. Tsukuyomi approves of them; the connection between wolf and moon is old and deep, and when Yotsuyu floats down into one of the smaller camps to pull its inhabitants into her dream, they howl in welcome. Smoke swirls around them, three tall and rangy hunters, and their hunger for prey pulls at her heart.

"Find him," she tells them. "Harry him and bring him to bay."

They lope away from their fire into the dark, their actions a hymn to the goddess they serve, and Yotsuyu follows, floating serene and powerful. Their excitement echoes back to her as they follow the trail. Is this how Lord Zenos feels when he hunts? Is this why he craves it so? The wind whistles in their teeth as they run, their hearts pounding with the need to run down the source of that sweet blood smell. It feels _exquisite_ , to know that her prey flees but has no chance of truly escaping. 

Her wolves corner him in a pile of rubble, where two broken walls lean together. Her own presence sheds cool light over the scene as he realizes his time is up and scrambles to his feet to face them. He's found a battered old knife, probably left here after the rebellion, and he gestures with it threateningly. 

"Poor, _poor_ Asahi," Yotsuyu says as her wolves box him in more tightly. He's such a mess, bloodied and filthy, only a few stray scraps of his uniform still clinging to his limbs. "Can't talk your way out of this one?"

He glares at her, and makes a hideous expression that would probably involve baring his teeth if she'd left him any. As it is, he's only showing her the raw mess of his empty gums and making a little frisson of delight run up her spine. 

One of the Lupin inches closer. Asahi takes a wild swing at him that doesn't make the Lupin retreat even an ilm. There's really nowhere left for him to go, and no leverage left for him to attempt. Yotsuyu watches him try to find a loophole he can worm through.

He makes an angry noise and brings the blade up below his own jaw, poised there in a threat. Would he take her vengeance away from her, when she's only just begun to enjoy it and he has decades to pay for?

Her fan snaps twice and Asahi's arms hit the ground with the dull thump of dead meat. He screams, so high and raw that everything in the basin must hear him. Yotsuyu gathers raw aether to her and forces it to her will, twisting torn flesh into scars before Asahi can bleed out and escape her in death.

It takes a long moment before he calms enough for his eyes to focus on her again. The fear has almost entirely eclipsed his hatred for her. 

"The next time you disobey me, I'll take your legs, and then you won't even be able to dream of one day throwing yourself into the river to drown," Yotsuyu says. She takes a drag on her pipe for the simple pleasure of taste, and to let that thought sink in before she adds, "Do you understand?" Too sweet, too gentle, the way one speaks to a child sold into a heartless house.

Asahi nods numbly. The blood from his severed arms turns the ground beneath him to sticky dark mud. The Lupin watch him, waiting for orders.

"Kneel," Yotsuyu says.

There, a tiny spark of the anger still lives inside him—but not enough to make him refuse. He goes down on his knees in the filth of his own defeat, still watching her instead of the Lupin. He always did have a good sense of where the power lay in a situation.

She smiles down at him. "Spread your legs wider. And bend over."

He squeezes his eyes shut—those, too, a luxury he could forfeit if he refuses her—and makes a pained, incoherent sound, but he does as he's told: he shifts his stance wider, then bends forward until he can rest his chest against a fallen slab of stone. Yotsuyu would almost take him to task for that, but she can always have one of her worshipers push him down into the mud later—and besides, he must be resting right on his burns, salving the last of his pride at the cost of additional pain.

She moves the first of her Lupin into position, crouching behind him, unlacing rough trousers to unsheathe a thick red cock, the tip pointed like a dog's instead of rounded like a man's. The Lupin licks his chops as he spreads the cheeks of Asahi's ass—and when Yotsuyu loosens her grip on him, gives him more control of the dream he lives under her light, he doesn't hesitate, only chuckles as he shoves his cock into the asshole in front of him.

Despair wells up in Asahi's aether and Yotsuyu has to laugh. After what he's suffered tonight, he still cares that much for the indignity of being fucked? She'll have to give him plenty of time to explore that degradation in full.

Her other Lupin worshipers are restless, watching, breathing in the scents of blood and sex. They want to play with the same toy their comrade is enjoying. She lets them have free rein too. They don't mind being hers, so let them enjoy the privileges of the faithful. 

One of them still only watches, eyes fixed avidly on the spectacle of the first Lupin's cock driving into Asahi's hole hard enough to rock him forward on the stone slab. The other opens his trousers and takes a seat on the stone, snarling claws in Asahi's hair and tugging his head back to force his mouth open for another bestial cock. His flesh muffles Asahi's sound of protest, but Yotsuyu can taste it washing over her all the same.

"This is what you're good for," Yotsuyu says, and oh, that feels like such a victory. "It's all you have to offer. And I'm going to make sure you have plenty of time to learn that lesson, _dear brother_."

There will be other Lupin here soon, drawn by the smell of blood and the way Asahi screamed. More worshipers for Tsukuyomi, the beginnings of an army to gather under the blood moon. She'll be able to have her vengeance on all of Doma in time.

And until then? She watches the Lupin fuck Asahi, his mangled body jerking helplessly between them as they break him in. Until then, she and her brother have _so much_ catching up to do.


End file.
